


The Things I Would Do to You

by Fickle_Obsessions



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Era, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Stable Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fickle_Obsessions/pseuds/Fickle_Obsessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Would you oblige me something?”</p><p>Impulsively Lafayette answers, “Anything.”</p><p>Washington kisses him again and then the hand upon his side begins to turn him. Lafayette breaks from the kiss to find himself being guided down to lean over the saddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things I Would Do to You

**Author's Note:**

> Shipping this over to AO3 because the more I think about this, the more fond I am of it. Whenever I put them in canon they end up so sweet on each other. (This was done for the sole purpose of porn, so many things about Lafayette's visit to Mount Vernon are glossed over completely.)

Lafayette is quite sure that he knows Washington perfectly before his stay at Mount Vernon, and he is quite wrong. The character of the man is unchanged, but how it is expressed when no longer constrained and weighed down by the cares of war, by the threat of an unknown destiny, that is as different as night and day. Before this trip Lafayette thinks for example, that he knows Washington’s appetites very well. Yet never would he have believed, never would he have _dreamed_ that Washington, the perfect gentlemen, would during their first ride of the trip point out an unused stable on his land and suggest they have a look with a smile so knowing that it makes Lafayette blush to agree.

The stable was left behind by the previous owner of the land after Washington acquired it. It is empty of horses, but there’s still enough straw on the floor that it is filled with the summery smell of cut grass rather than decay. Hanging from pegs on the wall are various ropes and bridles, and there is an old saddle, dusty and discarded, left upon a rail. It is, on the whole, rather unremarkable, and hardly worth a stop to look at.

Except that it did have a convenient place to tie the horses up outside and its four walls, no matter that they are ramshackle, do a fine job of shielding them from prying eyes. Having chosen it for just that purpose, Washington comes to stand just behind Lafayette, he plucks Lafayette’s hat from his head and nuzzles his face into his hair.

Lafayette grins and reaches back to cup Washington’s neck as he leans down to lay a kiss on the sensitive skin just under his ear. Lafayette marvels, delighted, that Washington would in the middle of the day, and in the middle of a ride, dare to draw him so close. The moments they shared during the war had been so very somber, so very careful. If pressed Lafayette would have never guessed that the careworn general could be so relaxed, so playful.

“Did you have any intention at all of going on this long ride you proposed or was it all just subterfuge?”

Washington takes Lafayette’s waist in his hands, “I think that a mind as sharp and as tactically inclined as yours has probably already guessed the answer to that question.“ He turns Lafayette around, gets them pressed chest to chest so that he can seal his lips over Lafayette’s.

Lafayette sighs happily into Washington’s kiss, lifts his hands up to cup Washington’s jaw and realizes at the last moment that he is still wearing his riding gloves. He would much prefer the feel of his naked fingertips upon the skin, but he is far too eager to bother to pull away and deal with them. He does not think that Washington minds, at least it doesn’t seem so from how tightly he is clutching Lafayette to him, how very deep he makes his kiss.

However there does come a moment where Washington breaks away, and catches his breath. “Do you know that I have never seen you bared to me in daylight?” he muses eventually, as if this were just a polite, albeit breathless, conversation in a parlor.

Lafayette flushes, “The thought had never occurred to me, but I suppose you are right.” It would have hardly been prudent or wise when during the day Washington could have suddenly had a caller with whom he could not deny an audience without raising suspicions.

Now Washington turns his head and considers their rustic surroundings. “Perhaps only to the waist,” he says. “In light of our chosen shelter.” Then he levels a gaze so hungry and hopeful that Lafayette would never dream of denying him.

Since Washington has already taken his hat, the first thing Lafayette removes are his gloves, tucking them into the pockets of his jacket which he removes next. Washington takes the jacket from him and hangs both it and the hat onto a peg upon the wall. Washington turns back to Lafayette as he is removing his vest. He does not, however, step forward to take it from Lafayette, only watches him, lips slightly parted from two paces away. Lafayette hangs the vest folded upon his arm, and begins to pull at his neck cloth and stocks while Washington’s eyes track the movement of his fingers closely.

He lays everything over the short partition of a horse stall and turns back to Washington so that his dear general may watch Lafayette pull the hem of his shirt free from his breeches. Washington remains quite rapt as Lafayette crosses his arms over his chest, grabs the hem of his shirt and lift up and off. It joins the vest in hanging over the the partition.

Lafayette allows Washington as long a look as he can, but very soon he begins to feel his nerves. What does Washington think of the hair on his chest in such bright light when he is so fond of calling Lafayette his boy? What have the months of leisure after the war done to Lafayette’s middle and does Washington note the change? He calls out for Washington to come to him, to press against him and cover him.

“A moment more,” Washington asks, eyes still travelling over Lafayette’s skin. “I’d like to commit this to my memory, make it as indelible as possible so that I cannot forget it.”

Lafayette does not at all like the reminder of how temporary this time together must be. He calls again, this time foregoing ‘sir’ for, “George, please.”

Washington recognizes his name as a serious plea, and he only makes Lafayette wait for as long as it takes for him to remove his own hat and gloves. He comes to Lafayette and presses up against him just as he wanted, and kisses him with such force that Lafayette must take a step back, and then another, and another until his rear suddenly collides with something solid. He looks back, startled, and sees that it is the old saddle on the rail. It’s quite dusty, but still it is perhaps the best of all possible surfaces he could be pressed against in this shabby, old stable. He rests against it and loops his arms around Washington’s neck.

Washington lets Lafayette kiss himself breathless, lets him work himself up until every now and again he makes a desperate little sound in the back of his throat. Then he presses his hand to Lafayette’s chest and gently pushes him back, looking down at him again with that intense, devouring gaze.

“You are so very fine,” he says, with a soft sort of awe. “No picture I bring forth in my mind ever does you justice.” His thumb rubs over Lafayette’s nipple, pebbling it up tight, and make Lafayette gasp just a little. Washington smiles, and his hand slips down next to Lafayette’s side. “Would you oblige me something?”

Impulsively Lafayette answers, “Anything.”

Washington kisses him again and then the hand upon his side begins to turn him. Lafayette breaks from the kiss to find himself being guided down to lean over the saddle. Washington follows him down, kisses his shoulder reverently as his arms reach round to begin undoing Lafayette’s breeches. Lafayette shivers as if cold as they are worked down his thighs, but he is not cold at all, he’s hot enough to have broken into a sweat.

“Ah,” Washington says, rubbing his hand along Lafayette’s flank. “You must think I’ve lost my senses, but you must understand how many times a day I would suddenly think of you, suddenly see you before me, flushed cheeks and moaning. Now that I have you here I find I want to recreate every image, every fantasy.”

Lafayette groans at the press of Washington’s hardness to the back of his thigh, at the finger tracing round the pucker between his cheeks. It is perhaps strange when he knows very well the dear place he has in Washington’s heart, but somehow he has never realized until now how badly he is wanted. There were times that he almost convinced himself that the general was only ever indulging Lafayette’s youthful and irrepressible desire for him. He sees now, feels now how very wrong that was.

Washington steps away a moment and Lafayette finds his voice. As he hears the soft pop of a vial being uncorked he confirms, “I understand because it was the same for me. Missing all the time the way it felt to have your arms around me, waking up sometimes at night convinced that I could reach for you.”

His voice breaks at being reminded once more that this will only be an oasis in what will be a long life of being apart from each other. Washington is there against him immediately, soothing him. A finger, slick with oil, presses against him and Lafayette hears Washington rumble in his ear, “Do not worry. Very soon, my dear boy, you will have me completely.”

Lafayette’s breath hitches at the breach of this first thick finger, but he adjusts quickly, willing himself to relax. “I will have you? Will it not be you that will have me?”

“I already have you,” Washington says, working his finger carefully in, stretching him. “I’m already inside you, and you are already writhing for me.” Lafayette moans at the marvelous truth of it.

Not to much later comes the second finger, filling Lafayette so much it seems he could hardly accommodate more. Lafayette grips the saddle under him, fingers almost cracking the neglected leather but he’s grateful for it. The shape of it lets him rock back easily against Washington’s hand, to coaxing himself into opening more.

He already feels that he is being driven mad, his cock hanging down heavy and untouched and then Washington adds a third finger and groans darkly at the sight to them disappearing into Lafayette’s body. His patience breaks. “George, please,” he says again since it worked so well the first time.

But Washington only chuckles at him, “Soon, dear boy.”

“I need you now,” Lafayette begs. “I can take you now,” he says rocking back against his fingers to prove it though it makes him whimper just a little. “Please, have me.”

“If I have you too roughly today, I will not be able to have you again tomorrow. Patience.”

Lafayette sags, defeated, against the saddle for a moment but very soon he is restless under Washington’s hands again, begging. He practically sobs with relief when the fingers are withdrawn and he hears Washington instead pulling at his clothes.

His stomach twists hotly at the wet sound of Washington slicking his cock with the rest of the oil. Lafayette arches his back in anticipation when a broad palm comes to rest on it, holding him steady as Washington’s other hand guides the head of his cock to Lafayette’s ass. They both moan as he begins to press unrelentingly in. At first, Lafayette is so stretched that he can only take small sips of air, but Washington takes his time, nudging forward in small degrees so that when his hips are nestled against Lafayette’s he is breathing much easier.

Washington holds himself still, focusing on nothing more than the feeling of himself sheathed. “My dear boy,” he says in awe. It sends a hot flush of pleasure down Lafayette’s spine seconds before Washington’s hips begin to move.

Lafayette has only ever been with this one man, and seen through one lens it could be taken as a misfortune that his first would be such a man as Washington. What other man could compete for the same part of Lafayette’s heart? Assuming there even was a man who could, it is quite impossible to believe that he would have the same powerful hips of such a consummate horseman as Washington. Washington’s hips do not thrust, they do not shove, they roll like waves. Beneath him Lafayette is not jostled, does not have cries punched out of him of pleasure or of pain, he shudders and moans and sings Washington’s praises. Lafayette could want for no other.

Too soon and yet not soon enough, Washington’s hand wraps around Lafayette’s cock and strokes him until he is keening. Never once has Lafayette been so loud for him, but there is no one close enough to hear them but the horses. Washington is not much louder than usual but his growled encouragement – “yes, that’s it. _Yes,_ my beautiful boy” – in Lafayette’s ear is enough to make him spill, a streak of his release landing on the stirrup hanging down from the saddle and then the rest upon the ground. As he seeks his own finish, Washington leans his body down to rest his forehead against Lafayette’s shoulder and rolls his hips until they finally stutter, once and then twice, before he buries himself as deep inside Lafayette as he can manage.

Washington rests there a moment, trusting Lafayette, the saddle, and the rail to hold him up as he regains his strength. While his lips are against Lafayette’s shoulder, he swears again, “No picture in my mind ever does you justice.”

Lafayette hums, pleased as always at Washington’s praise. Next he sighs in foolish regret that Washington is slipping free, that he is standing up and stepping slightly away. Gingerly Lafayette straightens up at last, though he must lean his hands against the saddle for a moment before his legs will hold him up.

When he turns around Washington gives him a handkerchief to be sacrificed to the task of cleaning up. After it’s discarded, Washington does not even wait for Lafayette to be finished fastening his breeches before he kisses Lafayette softly. Lafayette luxuriates in the fact that they have no reason to rush their leaving, and works his mouth against Washington’s until his lips feel almost numb.

Finally Lafayette cannot pretend that he does not wish that he was back at Mount Vernon with a very cool drink. Sighing he steps away at last to dress again. He is content, there will be more moments like this, more opportunities to stumble upon the setting of one of Washington’s fantasies of him. It will end, and far too soon, but for now he feels as though he could ask for nothing more than what they may have here together.

Outside the stable, Washington makes the amusingly gallant gesture of holding Lafayette’s stirrup for him as he prepares to mount his horse. Lafayette winces as he seats himself in the saddle but he will be able to make the ride back. He watches Washington mount his own horse.

“Dare I ask what else you have in store for me?” he asks, shifting in such a way that he is sure that Washington will not fail to notice.

“Only a short lifetime of pleasures,” Washington responds. There is something on his face that is not all playfulness, but before Lafayette can name the emotion Washington turns his horse away and points it in the direction of his home. Lafayette spurs his horse to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> This makes the second sexy trashy washette fic that I have gotten to title with lyrics from a nineties rap or R&B hit. It's pleasing me.


End file.
